Finish Line
by Brown-eyedFiction
Summary: A crash, one that leaves both the pilot and gunner alive, still can leave scars. But these types of scars can only be healed by those who know us best...Molly/Jordan.


Hey all! Long time no see! I'm back with a random dose of drama and fluff that will make you feel all good inside. At least that's the plan. This was just a random blurb I came up with after watching my new DVD set. *huggles DVD* This takes place long after the events on Oban in an alternate reality, where Jordan was not the one to become the avatar. Whoever did isn't important, as this is just meaningless fluff, but know that now the two of them are quite accomplished star racer pilots. Enjoy my first work with Oban Star Racers.

Cheers!

Brown-eyedFiction

**_Prologue:_**

Her eyes slit open and her mouth had the bitter taste of blood in it. The noises around her were distant, almost as though she had lost her hearing. Smells of wreckage were like smelling salts to her, bringing her back to the world around her. Her body was numb, and she didn't know if this was due to the fact that she was injured or that she was being pinned down by the very thing she used to drive her star racer. Lying on her back, she was able to see everything above her. Lifted her arms, she sighed in relief, thankful that she could still move them. A little trickle of blood traveled from the back of her left arm to her shoulder, dripping into the pile of shattered glass that she had landed on. She clutched onto the steering bars, and slowly and painfully pulled herself into an upright position, the glass crackling under her weight.

Her back was beat up pretty bad due to the shards of glass but it was nothing serious thankfully. She ached from being thrown around, but she still managed to have every body part fully functioning. No broken bones, no impact to her head. A little blood here and there but for the most part she was fine.

Eva "Molly" Wei had cheated death once more.

"That hurt like hell." She murmured, switching to her hands and knees so to crawl out of the cockpit. She lost her balance as she climbed out, falling rather hard on the black top of the track. She remained where she was for a moment, unable to decipher just where she was.

Looking around for a moment her eyes landed on one of the thrusters; only… it didn't look right. Perhaps it was because it wasn't attached.

"Oh boy I'm in trouble now, Jordan," she murmured. "The pit's going to throw us out for sure this time." She waited for a moment for his own two cents on the subject, but upon hearing nothing but silence, she paused.

"…Jordan?"

She got to her feet quickly and for reasons unknown even to her she bolted towards the unattached thruster. When she got close enough, she fell to her knees and looked at the remains of the gunner pit.

He lay on his side, his arm bent in a way that was completely unnatural. Was it broken? His head looked to be bleeding as well, along with his torso, and his legs… the blood was everywhere. His body was covered in soot from the explosion, the explosion she didn't remember happening

"Jordan?!" Molly gasped and reached for his arm. She managed to grab a tight hold of his wrist and give it a yank. "Jordan, can you hear me?"

His body worked loose from the seat and she managed to pull him away from the thruster. When they were a good distance away, she rolled him over onto his back. "Jordan, wake up!" she slightly shook him. "Please wake up!" she felt beads of water falling down her cheek. "Jordan!"

He made no response, which scared her further. This wasn't possible, this couldn't be happening! Molly leaned over his face and brushed his scruffy hair out of his eyes. "Jordan…"Her eyes glanced up at the distant sound of sirens, and then turned back to look at him. Seeing him lying there, not moving…for the oddest reason it made her sleepy. She wanted to lie down and rest. She was very tired, and her body was too weak to keep going.

Molly's arms gave out from under her and she fell atop Jordan; her head lying on his chest. Pressing her ear into him, she listened to what appeared to be a faint heartbeat that she knew wasn't hers...

**_Present:_**

"_Jordan?" _

At first, he thought it to be a nurse. Every hour one or more of the ladies would wake him to perform some meaningless task ranging from taking his blood pressure to changing his IV bag. It was a grueling process that would pull him angrily from his sleep and leave him for minutes at a time staring up at the ceiling and waiting to drift off again, only to go through the same process in another hour. He was restless and irritated, so he hoped that his lack of an answer -and rolling over to face away from the light of the open doorway- would give her a hint he wasn't interested.

The second time the voice spoke it was much softer, almost pained, "Jordan, are you awake?" And this time at once he knew the voice, knew it as he knew his own name.

He rolled over slowly, his eyebrows knitted together in disbelief when his line of vision fell on the light protruding from the hall outside. Molly stood there, cloaked in a hospital gown, her figure shrouded in darkness, against the doorway. She was slightly hunched over, watching him, with both arms upon the opening as though she were using it as support.

Pulling himself upward into a painful seated position his mouth fell open, "…Molly?"

At hearing her name spoken her head lifted and her eyes widened in recognition. He watched as her shoulders rose and fell once… then twice, and upon the third inhale she stiffened, tensing up as though something had struck her. He blinked, watching as one moment she was there and the next she was darting towards him in a blur that suddenly left him dizzy. When something warm coiled around his midsection, he quickly glanced downward and found it was her. His head tilted to one side, searching for her face within the confines of her arms snaked around his waist, holding onto him so tightly that it hurt, as she took no mind of his bandages or his wounds for that matter.

"Mol, what are you…how did you…" he sighed, latching onto her shoulders with his one good arm in an attempt to unhook her grasp so he could at least talk to her face. Oddly she fought against him; holding on only tighter and making him wince in the process. "Okay seriously, that hurts."

She sniffled, making him stiffen once more at it was a sound she rarely made. Slightly panicking, Jordan placed his one hand atop her shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze.

"Hey, none of that all right? You're not the blubbering type. You and I both know that."

After a moment she relaxed her grip, though didn't let go completely. Slowly she reverted to her normal self, choosing now to look him in the eyes as she apparently was satisfied that he was alright. He smiled, lifting his hand to wipe away the tears trailing from her eyes. "Shouldn't you been in bed? Your dad would kill you if he found you here." He paused, making a sour face, "Scratch that, he'd kill _me_."

The corners of her lips lifted, and though it lasted only a second it was progress in the form of a smile.

"Are you really that oblivious? I wanted to see you." She spoke plainly as if this were reason enough, before changing her tone to a bitter one that made her sound as though she were bent on revenge. "The stupid doctors had me under lock and key. I couldn't even go to the bathroom without someone watching me."

His upper body fell abruptly backward as her words made him lose the strength to hold it up. He landed rather harshly upon his bed with her still attached to him, "So you snuck out? Molly…" he started in an accusatory tone, slightly annoyed at her antics, which regrettably only seemed to get more insane as she grew older.

Keeping the resenting tone, she groaned, planting her face into his midsection in agitation, "Damn it, Jordan! I get it from him; I don't need it from you too."

He rolled his eyes; almost gagging as she pointed out the tone of his voice was a perfect mimic of his boss's and how on so many levels that such an occurrence was terrifying and utterly wrong. Looking down at her, he sighed in defeat, "Okay you saw me. Now get back to your room and go to sleep."

Molly shook her head, "You're such a jerk sometimes." She muttered, lifting her chin to place it on one of his lower ribs. "I can't sleep; it's too loud and too cold in there. There are machines and beeping and the nurses keep waking me up to do a bunch of stupid tests."

His head fell back into his pillow and he closed his eyes as she ranted a bit, noting she was having just about as much fun here as he was, "Not much better in here either, in fact it's probably worse. I snore, remember?"

"I dealt with it on Alwas and Oban with a curtain between us. This won't be any different."

Jordan stared at her in disbelief. Was she seriously suggesting staying here the rest of the night with _him_?

He snorted; she was wrong, for this was _very _different. Neither on Alwas nor on Oban did she ever sleep right next to him, nor did they ever even share a bed for that matter…excluding the day Sul disappeared, or the night before the snow mountain race; as those was just kind of like freak accidents… or something.

"Jordan?" there was that timid, pained voice again resulting in his lifting an eyebrow at her change in tone. How did she do that? "Look, anywhere but that cold empty, noisy room is fine with me." She glanced up. "I'll sleep on that chair or even the floor if you want. I don't care. But I'm not going back there tonight."

He sighed; he should have known she would say something like that, but it didn't change anything. Molly was kind of slow when it came to these things and the controversy behind them; either that or she didn't care. He still had yet to figure this out.

"You're not sleeping on the floor." He spoke up at last feeling slightly defeated, and then he scooted over a bit and patted the bed space beside him, offering what little space he had. "Just do me a favor and don't ever mention this to your dad."

Figuring she'd won the battle, Molly grinned triumphantly, and fully climbed up into the bed beside him; positioned herself so that she was lying on her back in the same fashion he was. She tilted her head slightly just enough so that her cheek was pressed into his broad shoulder, matching the rest of her side as the bed wasn't all that big to begin with. Together, the two of them pulled the thin hospital blankets over themselves.

Once they were still, Molly's voice fell to a hushed whisper, "So, how long you in for?"

"Why? You got other gunners lined up already?" he smirked and faked a wince when she slugged him. He shook his head, "You hit like a girl."

"Did you hear what happened to the pilot?" She ignored his statement about her strength and used her hand to demonstrate an explosion in the form of a mushroom cloud complete with sound effects.

His face sobered a bit, "Yeah… that's rough." He shifted his expression towards her just in time to catch her nod silently, a deep frown on her face. Despite the loss and the guilt he knew she couldn't help but feel, he couldn't help but counteract that with a sense of relief that they two of them were still here to tell about it. It wasn't child's play out there, what the two of them did was quite dangerous and anything could go wrong. The accident just seemed to define this even more. They had been horribly reminded that if they didn't take necessary precautions then either of them could lose their lives out there.

As if sharing these thoughts, Molly slightly turned towards him. In response, Jordan lifted his good arm and placed it behind her head, so she could use it for support. Moments later, both of them were sound asleep.

~*~

"_Eva_."

At first glance, nothing looked out of the ordinary. To those not searching for anything, it simply looked as though he were just sleeping comfortably in his bed, and didn't want to be disturbed. He didn't snore, nor twitch in his sleep, nor was his mouth ajar with the tiniest of drool dribbling from his lips. These were all signs of a peaceful slumber from one Jordan Wilde, something that should have been a relief for Don Wei.

Naturally, it wasn't.

He would have gone on and continued his search, knocking on every damn door he'd come across until Eva had been found, but the second the nurse had reported that daughter of his hadn't slept in her own hospital bed last night, something in him knew automatically where she was. It didn't take rocket science, as the pair of them never had been discrete or able to hide the close bond that had developed between them…the fact of the matter was it was getting harder and harder to bury the truth from his own mind.

Sighing, the great manager of Wei Racing shook his head. It was as though she _wanted_ him to find her here. If the giveaway hadn't been the large 'bump' on the boy's torso, it certainly was the extra set of feet protruding out from the other end of the thin blanket. It was a very feminine set of feet, covered by a set of black socks with her favorite pink rodent just above the ankle.

At discovering this scene, his first instinct was to construct a terse angered cough that would surely awaken both of them and result in the lecture that burned at his throat. This was one of the many times he would have preferred a larger toned body structure as he did in his youth, perhaps then he would have been able to physically show the boy what he thought of these ridiculous shenanigans. Yet he was faced with another truth, in that Jordan could more than likely tear him limb from limb if given the right motivation. Thankfully, the brawn hadn't figured this out yet and still remained utterly terrified of his boss.

Stepping forward just slightly, Don clasped onto the ruffled blanket, pulling it back just enough so that he could gaze upon his daughter's face. She too was a peace but it seemed the sudden lack of wool layer sent an unsuspecting chill down her spine. She groaned and pressed her face deeper into the young soldier, allowing a few strands of her black hair to cover her face like a curtain.

The irritated father quickly dropped the blanket nearly back in its original position and frowned at the boy. There was no offence against Jordan, simply that he'd been the one branded by the daughter whom only just come into the old man's life. Yes, Don only had himself to blame for this, but he still couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. Eva had complete faith in Jordan, even more faith than she had in her own father.

He turned, sighing once more before standing up properly and stepped from the room, his face set in its normal, stern stature. There was still hurt, and wounds that needed to be healed, something Eva had told him from day one. He would have to be patient; he would have to accept that forgiveness would not come overnight. But at the same time she assured him that she couldn't be happier than she was living with him and following in her mother's footsteps as a successful racer.

For now, that would have to do.

~*~

_Dad…_

Using her neck, Molly pushed her head upwards abruptly, swearing to God she had heard the sound of a door close, swearing that she heard the distinct click of her father's shoes on the tile floor below them. But there was nothing. Her father was nowhere to be found, and the room was completely silent, other than her own shattered breathing. Even the noises of the heart monitor and of the IV drip had been completely shut off. What could have…Had it been a dream?

The lump she'd been sleeping on mumbled something incoherently, before his eyes creaked open so to blink up at her a few times. He yawned, and she wrinkled her nose at the abrupt burst of morning breath.

"Molly?" he questioned, stretching himself a bit. "Whassa matter?"

She turned too looked down at him, relaxing a bit and letting out a small yawn of her own as those things were highly contagious. Her mouth stayed open to answer, but his sudden chuckling made her arch her eyebrows in confusion. He rolled his head back and his laughter grew louder and slightly more obnoxious as though something horribly funny had occurred and she completely missed it.

"What's so funny?" she demanded, her anger bringing heat to her cheeks.

Jordan threw an arm over his eyes, so to, she assumed, block out the sunlight outside. "Just feeling good about myself…" he explained, "turns out some people _can_ look worse than I do in the morning."

Her mouth fell open wider in shock and after some quick movements that he was sure left him with a few new bruises, she made a mad dash to the bathroom so to confirm or deny his claim. The mirror didn't lie to her, and Jordan's pained laughing was still audible, even through the closed bathroom door.

"Oh _god_…" she groaned, staring at the face that was supposed to be hers. She lifted her fingers attempted to brush through the ragged rats nest on top of her head, but the shine and style had been dead on arrival. Her face itself wouldn't have been too bad, if it hadn't been for the large line of indentation that started just below her eye and ended beside her nose. What had she been sleeping on? A metal pole? Perhaps that's what had poked her in the eyes, as the red glazed look had to be a result of something stabbing at her eye…unless…

Unless she'd cried sometime yesterday…

She had, come to think of it. Last night's blur of events were slowly coming into focus and immediately she relived clutching onto him and being so happy that he'd been alright. How embarrassing that was, how vulnerable she'd felt… and now he was making fun of her horrible morning appearance.

A comb, which had thankfully been setting on the cabinet below the mirror became her primary tool for somewhat straightening the mess of hair. She then washed her face twice and tried unsuccessfully to straighten out the creases in the stupid night gown she was wearing. What had she been thinking…coming to see him in this pathetic excuse for a piece of clothing. Ugh, forget it, she was never going to come out of this bathroom. She would die here in this extra large tent she was wearing.

"It wasn't that bad," Jordan said after a moment, his tone still containing his humor on the subject. "Just come out, I already saw you, so it's not like it matters."

She growled, and finally opened the door once more, stepping back into the room with her arms crossed over her chest and a deep flustered frown on her face. She dared him to make fun of her again.

He pressed his lips together, failing horribly at retaining his laughter, "Don't be mad, Mol."

Narrowing her eyes, she made her way over to the side of the bed and abruptly smacked him across the head earning her a satisfactory yelp of pain from him. "You're still a jerk."

"And you still hit like a girl." He countered with a smile on his face that ever so slightly brought one to hers as well. He _was_ a jerk, a crazy, stupid, cute, pain-in-the-ass-sometimes jerk, but a jerk none the less.

**_END_**


End file.
